Full Circle(Understand)
by L0necl0ud
Summary: Sheriff was always chasing joyriders, and then hot rods, and he was supposed to be impartial. That didn't keep him from gaining a lifetime, friend, in that sense a partner, if you will, and he wasn't upset in the slightest about that fact, even though Hudson kept leaving him in the dust and more than confused. A story of friendship spanning over fifty plus years.


**So, I and a new friend have been tossing back and forth ideas about Doc and Sheriff's friendship for more than a few nights, and as a result, I put together this sweet little story, which only contains only about ⅓ of all we have come up with.**

**The point of this is to say, I wrote the story, but the ideas presented are a cooperative effort between me and _NonsensicallyWierd_, who is here on this site as well.**

June 12, 1954

Sheriff didn't get it. Every certainty with this newcomer was simultaneously contradicted with something just as certain. This stood true even with his initial appearance. He was sleek, easy on the eyes, shone up with just redone chrome and a fresh coat of deep navy blue unlike most colours of the time. He looked brand new, a penny straight from D.C. He was also more than a few years on age, and coated top to bottom in months of dust and dirt. Surrounding blinding glimpses of silver metal was forest mud, dulling the blue, yellow dust and red dirt, white walls faded and dyed orange. Done up brand new, coated old like a lost car.

He wouldn't have noticed, none of the town regulars would have noticed, if he wasn't still quite the car among others, if he didn't linger and stay.

It wasn't just his appearance either. He was strong and confident, even beguiling in an almost mischievous way. He charmed everyone upon meeting, certain of himself and what he wanted, with an almost discerning eye, more thoughtful. However, Sheriff was the one with the thoughtful and discerning eye. And so he could see the flashes of thinking turning too deep in the New Comer, he could see how, as he lingered alone, he watched on as Main Street rolled by as if utterly alone. He saw the longing look as the Saturday race occurred at their own local dirt track, and saw the small shake and how he turned and ran off.

He was going ten over, and Sheriff is a cop, but all the cars were at the track, not on the street, and he was tired of pondering the car and trying to understand.

When the New Comer rolled back into town a week later, not looking any for the better since his first arrival, Sheriff sighed and rolled up.

"Sheriff." A smirk and nod of approval. Sheriff ignored it.

"You were going ten over as you left last."

"A little late for that ticket, huh?"

Sheriff squinted and the man had the audacity to chuckle. "Just call me Hudson. Never one for singular names."

What car didn't want a name for itself apart from its maker? Sheriff shook himself and continued on.

"Well, I see our town made an impression on you. Come on, you should get cleaned up."

September 12, 1954

The town had taken to him immediately.

He bought himself out an old garage round back of an abandoned clinic using money from who knows where. Sheriff couldn't find out, not with no means of factual suspicion versus his own confusion.

But the fact was the town had taken to him immediately. Hudson has stuck, his name and he himself. His charm never faltered in the presence of others, and it helped him bond with the town folk speedily.

He was always the opposite alone.

Sheriff had very little time of his own, what with controlling traffic(they really should get to installing a new traffic light), chasing down joy riders and generally patrolling every few hours. He was used to watching the town's goings and getting to know the townsfolk from afar or from direct aiding in their needs. It was lonely at times, but his job was fulfilling, and, besides, he needed to be sharp in observance anyways.

So he didn't quite know how to handle a new tag along through town, a pest that wouldn't leave his side occasionally at his post right outside of town.

Well, would be pest. This all should be very annoying, if Hudson wasn't so good with his words, so easy going in conversations, and, against his better judgment, Sheriff finds himself a friend.

It's not the most peaceful of friendships he's had, he can't get over the inconsistencies. The two-faced personality, how Sheriff is absolutely avoided upon controlling the weekly race traffic, how he avoids discussing his comings and past.

If he'd just pay more attention to the racing world right next door, two miles away, he'd know. He knows it.

But this is not a crime scene, and he's a Sheriff, not a detective, so he doesn't dig, and he respects what's unspoken, and he lets Hudson tag along.

March 1, 1954

The whole town, he included, is sad to see Hudson go. Off to some big city, something about restoring the clinic.

Sheriff knows though, he understands that he wants to help and put down new roots. And what better than a career that will stand the test of time? Sheriff understands, so he'll try to not be too lonely without his tag along patrol buddy.

August 3 1963

Sheriff didn't understand where the money came from. After almost ten years, he forgot to question it though, and looked only towards the holiday breaks in which his short time buddy would return to town and inevitably follow him around again. Now he would ramble and vent on whatever school was throwing at him, and he still had that faraway look in the silence, but never with Sheriff.

But now almost ten years had passed of waiting, and now Hudson was yet again here to stay, and really, Sheriff had no time to spare, but how could he say no to helping restore the old clinic? Of course, the town helped in as well, but Sheriff had been personally asked.

Why had Doc teared up so, when the town celebrated his return amidst the visitors and tourists? Or rather, why did he have some twinge of fear, then a rolling familiarity of nostalgia? Sheriff knew nostalgia all too well, as he was occasionally called out to help in other towns, and he was always nostalgic remembering back to his hometown.

He almost remembered his old questions upon first meeting Hudson. Almost.

But it wasn't Hudson anymore. It was Doc Hudson now, and he had wanted to bury whatever his past was. And Sheriff respected that from the start.

Confused or not, understanding or not. He let it drop.

December 24, 1976

Sheriff had married young, within his first year, had children brought, two, to be exact, and divorced fast. He wasn't necessarily proud of the fact, of divorce, but he had married young, and didn't know what he liked besides following the flow, and it only took a few years to change his mind.

He wouldn't call them that close, especially not now that he was bringing Hudson along for the holiday, which would only make it awkward. But being daily friends, close and friendly for so many years changes dynamics, and official or not, Sheriff knew what he liked now.

Of course, Sheriff wouldn't understand himself, he was supposed to be an impartial cop after those first few years, a friend equal to all and calm and directed.

Sheriff didn't understand why, but Hudson always caught his eye from the start. He didn't quite understand what they were, and this time the confusion wasn't single-handed.

But it was never a problem between them, of that both were certain.

And so they visited Sheriff's old family, and the children now new adults who came to see their parents for the holidays. It was a jolly day, with gifts and food from all around with peace and warm welcomes into the circle and no harsh pasts, and no tension.

Or, no tension on the surface.

But Sheriff knew not to question, and to stay puzzled, because Doc always explained in his own time.

December 28, 1976

They've had this game for a while now.

It's rather a whole tradition.

Doc would deal with the town's filings, earn himself the title of unofficial Lawyer(the town was too small for anyone to question), heal those as they need it, and then, come the end of dinner, come sunset, he'd follow Sheriff out to his post, exhausted from the day and hang out and chat late into the night.

Maybe he vents now about whatever patient or wound he had to deal with now.

Maybe he jokes and prods and pokes, playing with those little spokes stuck sticking out from Sheriff's wheels.

Maybe he falls asleep, leaning on Sheriff, and eventually, Sheriff will too, waiting for the next hotrod.

When had he started saying hotrod as opposed to joyriders?

And then, come early hours of morning, Doc would come whipping down the road, startling Sheriff awake and practically asking to be thrown in the impound.

And Sheriff should be annoyed, should be angry, should be stern and strict, but for some reason, he just chases after.

Because somehow it became some game of theirs.

And that particular time, as he catches Doc, he should play along and finish the game, throw him in the impound without the official charge, which is probably illegal but since when did either of them care.

The town just laughed at their antics, anyway.

But instead, Doc says something about always being jealous of some past or another, his way of explaining the tension come Christmas, and gives him a small peck good night, and then Sheriff is alone.

And this time, Sheriff isn't confused, and he doesn't ponder, because he's too tired, and really, he should have seen this coming.

May 16, 1986

They stay friends. Cuddly, knowing all the secrets, with the occasional flirt on Sheriff's part, or the occasional quip on Doc's cute anger, or the occasional good morning peck.

But they're friends.

And Sheriff isn't quite sure what friendship is then.

And he knows really he should stop questioning such trivial thoughts, because Hudson was always causing contradictions and throwing him for the loop.

Sheriff never really minded, it was fun, and so he buries any confusion in their games to pass the time, their dares and pranks, now that the town was growing empty of tourists and travelers and they had their hands free.

Early retirement, and they're sad to see their town go, but Sheriff was why Doc stayed(unknowingly to the cop) and now Doc and his mischief kept them happy.

And so on they go, chasing each other through town and partaking in ridiculousness, such as seeing who can drive up the steepest loose hill.

Late fall, 2006

Doc hides.

Doc pouts.

Doc grumbles.

Doc is angry and mean.

And usually, it's cute, but it's so raw, directed all at that red naive newcomer that reminds Sheriff so much of when Doc first arrived. When Doc was the newcomer.

And Sheriff doesn't understand. And it's not fair, to him or to this hot rod he chased down the one night Doc stayed in.

And even as he gets a check-up, because really, they aren't young anymore as much as they denied it, and he pushed himself too hard chasing down that red hot rod, the tension is thick, and Doc isn't only professional, but cold.

When the hotrod, Lightning, bursts in, Sheriff treats it as an ice breaker, opportunistic, and is optimistic. Doc is only furious, shoos Lightning out, and finishes the check-up fast, and now, in all his confusion and being left behind, Sheriff finds himself feeling cold.

But he was never good at understanding, and now he wants to know, but talking to Doc later that night, he gets nothing, because Doc only ever explained on his own time.

And he doesn't understand, and he's tired of being alone, so he focuses on welcoming the newcomer, as he did so many years ago.

Later that week

Lightning is some racer. Sheriff understood that. Lightning had a race to go to. Sheriff understood, and after all, Lightning did to help their dying town, like Sally only a few years prior, rough start or not, he knows it's only proper to return the favour.

LA was a far ways off to offer a police escort, but Sheriff could at least get him to the next large town over off the interstate.

And then, Lightning does even more, he restores the town, like Sheriff did the clinic for Doc. And rough start or not, Sheriff understands that this boy has a heart of gold.

Sheriff doesn't understand how the press found the racer. Surely the two lost travelers earlier that week weren't undercover reporters.

But it doesn't matter, because Lightning is gone, and the neon lighting is too bright as he overhears Sally accuse Doc, and Doc admit it.

And he doesn't understand why, or Doc's reasoning, but he understands his rage, for Doc went too far now in his secrecy, and he goes out to his post alone.

When, hours later, Doc rolls up to join him,

Sheriff shrugs on his axles, and says no. And he knows Doc understands, and the navy blue car rolls back into town, stuck in whatever grave he built for himself.

And Sheriff wishes he knew, so he could understand, because he can't bury it this time.

That night, he raced off into the desert alone, not to catch some speeder, to let off steam. It's the next best thing he knows to do.

The next morning

Doc comes out with this secret.

To Sheriff it's something minuscule that wouldn't have changed his view of the car, only make certain memories, parts of his personality and his quirks more understandable.

But he can see that for Doc, it's something huge, because in his mind it's another him, a dead him, a past meant never to resurface because of its early passing.

Because apparently Doc was a racer as well, kicked out in '54, washed out and up in their town, Radiator Springs that late spring, lost and wanting a new name for himself.

And Sheriff understands.

He doesn't forgive. Not yet. Doc can see that, and Sheriff wonders what's hurting the veteran racer more, Doc holding back forgiveness, or his guilt.

That weekend.

Sheriff forgives. Because he understands, and it's not right. But everyone does something wrong. And Doc sacrificed, gave his biggest secret as his apology, and then entered this past world now present, fitted back into his racing paint job Sheriff wished he had gotten to see earlier and longer.

And when the race ends, Sheriff isn't sure who he's more proud of, the rookie racer or his old-time friend.

When Doc arrives home, all it takes is a warm nod in greeting, a gentle nuzzle, and they're fine again. Repaired.

Spring, 2007

Sheriff feels like they've been friends renewed, like when they first met back in '54, except not really.

Now they're more like a family, some weak fabric stitched together with a sturdy thread, pulling it together, stabilising and strengthening it, and just as the old fabric, the old thread began to fray, they were bound again with something stronger and more vibrant, some rookie racer that tore them apart in its clash and ultimately brought them closer than ever.

And revived Radiator Springs. So that Sheriff is busy all over again, further reinforcing that old nostalgia.

Even moreso, however, is Doc preparing to set off for the last of Spring, Summer, and the early Fall, to follow Lightning off on the racing season, and it feels just like when Doc set off for college.

And Lightning doesn't understand the sentimentality of it all, or why, even with Doc having lightning and the racing world, and Sheriff his townsfolk and people to protect, they'll be unbearably lonely at first, and that's okay.

And so with a rare kiss goodbye, they split their separate ways, and it's fifty-plus years of a story full circle.

Late fall 2008

They throw a welcome home celebration just like they did when Doc returned from college, but now it's for The Fabulous Hudson Hornet, and his apprentice, Lightning, who's more like his old crew chief than they'll ever realise. It's a bright day with music and confetti and tourists gathering to join in on the celebrations and everyone is ecstatic and overjoyed.

And as the party dies down, and they all make their way to Willy's Butte for a bonfire, Sheriff and Doc are side by side, alone for the first time since the racing season started.

And they simply nodded warmly, nuzzled briefly, and just like that, it would be back to a tag-along patrol buddy and a night partner.

As if they'd gone full circle, and now, now Sheriff knew they had.

**I will never be content with this story, I've determined, for after four edits and revisions I still want to nitpick and change things. I cut out a whole ending and replaced it with the ending portion the story has now. However, this all just a cry as to how much I enjoy this story. I'd say that means I'll do a more fleshed-out version, but this is meant to try and follow the 'less is more' concept. **

**Please, if you enjoyed, review and favorite, and, if someone wants it, I'll post the alternate, original ending, which could now act as an epilogue of sorts.**


End file.
